


Take A Drunk Girl Home

by Flargalgargal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunkenness, F/F, F/M, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 12:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flargalgargal/pseuds/Flargalgargal
Summary: Halloween with the Stark kids. Sansa regrets asking to be in charge, Arya turns into a pumpkin, and everyone gets into trouble





	Take A Drunk Girl Home

“Arya Lyanna Stark, where have you been?” Came a growling voice from Sansa Stark, standing near the doorway of her younger sister’s bedroom. Waking to her full name was not a new experience for Arya, but it was one that rarely ended well. She blinked sleepily, trying to think through the pounding behind her eyes and decide whether the question was a trick. 

“In bed.” Arya ventured slowly, stretching her arms out behind her to work the sleep out of her body. As she watched Sansa, however, she began to realize that this was one of those situations where the correct answer may not necessarily be the right one.

“In bed, you say?” Sansa asked, mockingly. “And do you know where I’ve been, while you’ve been “in bed”?” At a shake of Arya’s head, Sansa somehow turned even redder. “I’ve been out, all night, looking for you! Do you even remember how you got home?”

Arya shook her head again, wincing at the pain it caused in her temples. “I don’t know, I was drunk! You were supposed to be in charge of everyone, what do you remember?”

“Well,” Sansa began, the mocking tone back in full force as she moved closer to sit on her sister’s bed, “I remember the first part of the night, where everything went perfectly to plan, and everyone had nice, safe fun. I won the pumpkin carving contest, and-“

“Of course you won, Creepy Uncle Petyr was judging it.” Arya cut in, causing Sansa to slap at her shoulder.

“Shush you, I’m remembering. After that, Robb and Jon won the karaoke contest.”

Arya winced, from embarrassment for her past self instead of pain this time. “They did ‘Bye Bye Bye’ again, didn’t they?”

“It’s always a good show, they’ve really perfected the choreography now. Maybe you should try something nice like that sometime, instead of all your knife throwing and archery and whatever.”

Arya scoffed. “You say “nice”, like they don’t leave with the numbers of every girl in the place whenever they do it. Theon fainted the first time he saw it.” She laughed slightly, before her eyes lit up. “I remember what happened next! Your boyfriend convinced you to take us to a real bar.” Her smirk took up her entire face, finally feeling in control of the conversation.

“Theon is not my boyfriend, for the last time!” Sansa squealed in return, her voice reaching a pitch that threatened to bring Arya’s headache back to unbearable levels, but she decided the reaction was worth the pain.

“I’m just saying, if it was me that asked, you wouldn’t have taken us to Littlefinger’s. All we’ve heard since last time is about how sticky the floors were.”

“That floor was more like glue than vinyl, and you know it.” Sansa gave her sister a light push, Arya swaying slightly before regaining her balance. “That was when you got really wasted, and you got that pumpkin mask somewhere.” She recalled, looking off into space as the picture formed in her mind.

 

“Arya,” she’d called, finding her sister on a stool at the bar, a mask pushed up on top of her head as she threw back the last of a drink, “Where’d you get that?” She pointed to the mask.

“I don’t know, found it.” Arya mumbled, suspiciously. “Why what’ve you heard?”

“What? I haven’t heard anything, I hadn’t seen it before, so I asked.” Sansa eyed her sister, who refused to meet her contact. “Arya, did you steal it off someone?” She questioned, her hands finding their way to her hips in a pose of motherly scorn.

“No,” the younger girl pouted, turning away and pulling the mask down over her face, “Arya’s not here, I’m no one.”

“Arya, come on.” Sansa tried coming around the side to make her sister face her, but Arya continued to spin away on the stool. Her attention was drawn away at the sound of quickly approaching feet from behind.

“Sansa, come quick!” Robb shouted, far too loudly for the distance, and Sansa winced at the alcohol that washed over her from his breath, “Theon got in a fight with Ramsay!”

“Oh gods,” She muttered, turning back towards the bar, “Jon, keep an eye on Arya, I’m going to stop Theon from killing Ramsay.” She instructed her cousin, who gave an exaggerated salute, nearly falling off of his barstool before being pulled back by the redhead next to him.

“Ah, Sansa, I’d been hoping to have a word with you.” A voice called from nearby. Ygritte turned to face the speaker, scowling when she identified him.

“Go die, Old Man.” She called, as Petyr Baelish quickly changed direction, finding somewhere else to insinuate himself.

“Rude.” Jon half-laughed, half-slurred next to her, laying his top half along the bar. 

Ygritte scoffed in return. “If you haven’t noticed how creepy he is around Sansa, you know nothing, Jon Snow.” She turned to look past him. “Arya gets it, right Arya?” There was no response, and they gave each other a worried look at the nearby stool, which no longer had a small pumpkin girl occupying it.

Not particularly far away, but through a crowd of people, a very blonde girl was reaching her last nerve on the dance floor. 

“Come now, Daenerys, just one dance with me and you will never have need of another.” A large, black man purred, attempting to grab her hand and pull her to his side.

“Step away from the girl,” he heard, as a hand came down to smack his away from making contact, “and I shall allow you to leave with your life.” Xaro Xhoan Daxos turned to face his challenger, only to laugh at the pumpkin face who was barely half his size.

“It is you who should step away, little one,” his voice rumbled from deep within him, “The adults are talking now.”

“You were given a choice.” The Pumpkin Face intoned dramatically, advancing towards him with an agility that surprised him. Xaro attempted to bat the annoyance out of the way, but she swayed slightly, avoiding the path of the blow seemingly without conscious effort. He tried a few more times in rapid succession, with a similar lack of success. This small girl in a pumpkin mask was making a fool of him, and it was almost like she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

Xaro went to grab the girl, hoping to end the encounter quickly, but she ducked at the contact, and he rolled across her shoulders as she moved through his arms, throwing him off balance and crashing into a nearby table.

The Pumpkin Face bowed to the assembled crowd around her, swaying slightly as she stood. “A girl is drunk.” She giggled, taking a steadying step to the side, bringing her to face the blonde she’d defended.

“We should get out of here.” Daenerys said, watching as Xaro continued trying to pick his way free of the pile of chairs his fall had trapped him in. She turned to the Pumpkin Face. “Are you here with anyone? Can I call them for you?”

Her rescuer laughed, shaking her head. “A girl needs no one, a girl is no one.”

“Well, you must have a life beyond the mask,” Daenerys tried, “Who are you when you’re not rescuing damsels in distress?”

A hand came up, pushing the mask off of her face. “A girl is Arya Stark, of Winterfell University.” That same hand then moved down to shake Daenerys‘.

“Well, Arya Stark of Winterfell University, do you happen to live with a certain Jon Snow?” She questioned, receiving a series of excited nods in return. “And would you like me to give you a ride home to him?” The nods continued.

Back on her sister’s bed, Sansa Stark had finally finished her mental retracing of her steps from the previous night, realizing she had indeed not seen her sister after leaving her with Jon.

Arya, meanwhile, was pursuing a different lead, having found a note by her phone, which was charging on her dresser. “Thank you for defending me, I hope you’ve not suffered much from your intervention on my behalf. Please see the accompanying water and medication when you awaken.” She read the note aloud in wonder, following the arrow to the aforementioned items, before noticing the signature and phone number below it.

She copied the number into her phone, sending off a quick text of thanks for taking care of her, along with an offer of coffee in hopes of recovering further and learning just what it was she’d done to receive such special treatment. “It’s a date”, the reply said, along with the name of a nearby coffee shop, and a time that left her just enough time to shower before heading out.

“Wait,” Sansa called, watching her sister dig through her closet and head for the bathroom, “You vanish, ruin my Halloween plans, make me spend all night looking for you, and you get a date out of it? That is so not fair!”

Arya poked her head back into the room, grinning cheekily. “I could always call Theon, get you a date out of it too…” she ducked her head and ran for the shower, avoiding the impact of whatever Sansa had thrown at her hitting the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was my first time writing any of the characters, so I hope they’re not too OOC. 
> 
> The title comes from Chris Janson’s ‘Drunk Girl’, which inspired this by playing every night I worked for the past few months. Part of this was also inspired by my 23rd birthday, where some girl actually told my roommate to “Go die, old man”. College bars are fun places, huh? 
> 
> Have a happy Halloween, and maybe I’ll see you around here again sometime


End file.
